


Kiss me under the mistletoe, just for show

by rainbow_nerds



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: (in the past), Actor Bucky Barnes, Actor Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blow Jobs, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Holidays, Interviews, M/M, Mistletoe, Paparazzi, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Referenced Riley/Sam Wilson, Sharing a Bed, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_nerds/pseuds/rainbow_nerds
Summary: Almost everyone on earth has an hourglass tattoo somewhere on their body, counting down to the day you discover your soulmate. It’s almost never a first meeting, and rarely anything momentous. It’s a moment among dozens, among hundreds of others in which you look at someone and something clicks into place. The sand runs out, the skin surrounding the tattoo burns for a moment, and then it’s over.Congratulations, you’ve found The One.It’s all very romantic, really, unless you happen to be someone who lives their lives in the public eye.Steve and Bucky are actors and old friends, and they hatch a plan to avoid unwanted advances while promoting their new movie together.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 45
Kudos: 256
Collections: SW101 Members' Holiday Fics





	Kiss me under the mistletoe, just for show

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've been toying with for a while and I'm so happy to finally share it!

Scholars have studied it for centuries, but the truth is that nobody really knows when the soulmate phenomenon first began. For a long time, it was a rare thing. Those few individuals blessed with the mysterious hourglass tattoos were held to a position of high status within their community. They were paraded from village to village, and when the last grain of brightly coloured sand ran into the second chamber, feasts and celebrations were held which lasted for days.

It became more and more common as the years passed, and today the appearance of the hourglass on a person’s body is simply a normal part of growing up and going through puberty, alongside awkward growth spurts and acne. One day — usually between the ages of ten and fifteen, you wake up to find an hourglass tattooed somewhere on your skin. Some are highly decorative, with flowers or symbols embellishing the frame, while others are more minimalistic or utilitarian. No matter what it looks like, however, there is one thing clear: the so-called sand in the hourglass flows from one chamber to the next at a fluctuating rate, and it keeps flowing until one day it finishes, leaving you looking at the person destined to be your soulmate.

For something which occurs in approximately 94% of the adult population, there is a surprising lack of clarity over what exactly the flow is counting down to. It’s almost never a first meeting, and rarely anything momentous. It’s a moment among dozens, among hundreds of others in which you look at someone and  _ something  _ clicks into place. The sand runs out, the skin surrounding the tattoo burns for a moment, and then it’s over. 

Congratulations, you’ve found The One.

It’s all very romantic, really, unless you happen to be someone who lives their lives in the public eye. It can be exhausting, having to be constantly on your guard for people who will throw themselves into your line of sight on the off chance your hourglass is running low, or who run to you when they know they are close to try and ensure you are the person they see when the burn happens.

It never works, of course. Their eyes always drift away at the last second, land on the person who is meant for them, and they usually live happily ever after.

Steve really wishes they could have their happy ever after  _ without _ giving him a heart attack first, but it is what it is. Ever since he got cast in  _ The Captain _ right out of college and got thrust into the public eye — gaining thousands of fans almost overnight — he’s had to deal with people trying to orchestrate a soul bond with him. It’s been five years since the first time it happened and he still struggles to believe this is his life.

He’s just wrapped filming on the third installment in the franchise, and is looking forward to heading home to Brooklyn for some downtime before the press tour madness begins for one of his other projects. It’s only for a week, but it’s right over Thanksgiving and he seriously needs it right now. He’s always drained after a long shoot, and he really can’t wait to sleep in his own bed for a while — not to mention getting to eat his mom’s turkey without having to worry about breaking a strict diet he was on for an upcoming project.

Usually, he’d wish for more than seven days off — he’d even negotiate for it when booking a job — but he has a press tour lined up to try and gain momentum for a film during award season, and the project in question is particularly important to him. It had been something of a passion project, from the script to the co-stars. Steve had loved every second of making the movie, due in no small part to the fact that he had gotten to work with three of his best friends. He had worked with Sam and Natasha a few times in the past, and they were his closest friends in the business. Bucky is a whole different story, and Steve still can’t believe his luck in getting to work with him properly.

He arrives home, collapses into bed, and prepares to vegetate for at least the first few days before Thanksgiving day arrives — after that, he’ll spend the rest of his break working off the food coma.

❄️

When he emerges at the end of his break, it’s with renewed vigour and sporting the beginnings of a pretty respectable beard. He hops in the car his agent sends and lets it take him to the studio in Manhattan where the press tour is set to begin.

It’s a familiar routine by now — a quick catch-up with the co-stars he hadn’t seen in months, maybe a brief run-down of the schedule with either an assistant or the host of the show, then he’s ushered into hair and make-up and left to wait in a green room until someone tells him it’s his turn to go onto set.

Bucky and Natasha are both there already when he arrives, and he greets both of them with hugs. It’s been a couple of months since they’ve been together, so by the time Sam arrives they’re all talking over each other, discussing their upcoming projects and what they’ve been doing over the past few months. It’s a better way than most to fill the time before their segment, he figures.

Sam pulls out pictures of his two year old twins, and they coo over the matching onesies they’re wearing. 

“I’ve been a stay-at-home dad the last few months since we wrapped, and it’s been great. Spending time with the girls, and with Riley too. I’m gonna miss them now that we’re on the road again.”

Steve doesn’t ask Natasha what she’s been doing, because she had landed a role in Captain 3, which means that they had been spending basically every day together for the past six months anyway. They share some stories from the set and chat a little about what they did over the short break, but there isn’t really much to catch up on.

Bucky has apparently been workshopping a new play in New York, and he tells them all about the process.

“I wish I could’ve taken it to previews, but this was already scheduled so they had to bring it to casting. The guy they got in is great though, can't wait to see what he does with the part. That’s the job, eh?” Steve nods and tries to say something, but then the door opens.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you’re on in five,” Steve turns to see someone wearing a headset standing in the doorway, gesturing for them to make their way to the stage. It’s the same crew member who led him to the green room earlier. He smiles and nods to them, and the four castmates follow them out.

It’s a pretty straightforward interview, in which they discuss the movie as much as they are allowed to, then field the standard questions about themselves — How they spent the holiday, Steve’s most recent post online — a photo taken by his mother in which he’s sprawled asleep on the couch after thanksgiving dinner, a half finished plate of pie resting on his stomach —, along with whether Bucky prefers stage or screen acting, Sam’s kids and Natasha’s most recent casting announcement. It’s pretty unremarkable, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Steve’s pretty sure there’ll be gifs and youtube compilations of the banter they shared before long once the show goes to air, and none of them were asked any awkward questions, so they count it as a win.

The day isn’t finished, however. Almost immediately after they leave the stage — following a short debrief with the host — they are all ushered to their next engagements. This time they are split up — Sam and Natasha to one show, and Steve and Bucky to another. The company has sent cars to bring them to the next studio and they part ways with hugs and vows to meet up for dinner sometime soon. 

“So, you’re back on stage again?” Steve asks on the short drive, and Bucky shrugs. 

“Yeah, it’s always been where I felt the most comfortable, you know that.” Steve nods in understanding.

“I miss it too, honestly. Anything coming up?” Bucky shakes his head with a sigh.

“Nah, like I said, I had the workshop, but I have nothing till after all of this,” he gestures vaguely at the car, at Steve. “Hard to commit to eight shows a week when I’m on the road promoting the movie. Not that I mind, I’m glad I got the chance to do this, at least once.”

“Well, hopefully I can catch you in something when all this is over,” Steve comments. They lapse into silence, Bucky wearing a small smile, before Steve continues.

“I’m glad you decided to do this. I know screen acting isn’t your favourite, but it was good getting to work with you again.” Bucky snorts in response and shakes his head. 

“I mean it’s no college production of Spring Awakening, but yeah. It was good.” Steve laughs out loud at the memory. They spend the rest of the trip talking about the good, the bad and the ugly of college productions they had been in together, so that by the time they arrive at the studio the makeup they had been wearing for their first interview had to be reapplied because they had laughed it away.

“Promise me that  _ that  _ story will  _ never _ make its way into an interview,” Steve says through his giggles while they wait to be called on, referring to the story Bucky had reminded him of from the wrap party for one of their plays — featuring a drinking game, clothes swapping, and an ill-fated dare which resulted in needing to get the roof fixed. Bucky crosses his heart solemnly.

“Oh don’t worry, you have  _ way  _ more dirt on me, I’m not risking that shit,” he replies, and Steve smirks as some of those moments make their way to the front of his mind. They make eye contact for a moment before bursting into laughter again, earning them stern looks from the makeup artists.

This interview starts in much the same vein as the previous one — a fairly standard daytime talk show slot. Once the interviewer has finished asking the standard movie questions, she takes a different course, asking questions of them both rather than individually.

“This is your first time working together on a professional set, though I know you both went to college together, is that correct?” Steve resolutely doesn’t make eye contact with Bucky for the duration of the question as they talk about their alma mater and how it was nice to reconnect after all these years. He knows if he looks over now, he’ll get the giggles again and won’t be able to stop. The interview carries on, but then Steve notices a glint in the interviewer’s eye and he senses the personal question coming before she asks it.

“Now, tell me. Your co-star Sam has been very open about his soulmate connection, but fans are eager to know if either of you have sand left in your timers, care to comment?” Steve bites his tongue while Bucky tries to stammer an answer. Steve sees Bucky’s hand brush against his left thigh in an almost defensive gesture, and decides to take over. He has a lot more experience in shutting down questions like this, and he senses Bucky is floundering. 

“For me, I’m happy with where my life’s at right now. Whether or not my sand’s still flowing is beside the point. That’s sort of what this movie is about, actually,” Steve launches into a discussion on the theme of choice in the film they’re there to promote, and the interviewer accepts the change of direction with only a passing attempt to steer them back to the question.

After the interview, and after shaking hands with the interviewer and thanking her for her questions they wait in a dressing room for their car.

“Thanks for the save. I’m not used to getting personal questions like that, they don’t tend to care about theatre actors’ personal lives that much,” he jokes, and Steve purses his lips.

“You sure about that? Just because you don’t have national TV hosts asking, doesn’t mean there aren’t dozens of blogs dedicated to your ass, or—”

“Please stop talking, and tell me you have never looked at those blogs.” Steve waggles his eyebrows, and Bucky groans. 

“Alright, fine! But they don’t usually ask me straight up if I’ve found my soulmate, alright?” Steve accepts that with a shrug. It’s a fair point.

“Yeah. Hopefully there won’t be too many like that, but generally it’s best to divert it to something impersonal, about the movie or even politics if you’re  _ really  _ stuck. Though, that one can get even stickier to be fair. They tend to back off as long as you don’t give them anything to latch onto.” Bucky nods and takes a deep breath.

“So, do—” Bucky cuts himself off and starts again “— I don’t want to pry, but I was wondering if…” Steve catches Bucky’s eye as it drifts down to linger somewhere over his ribcage, and Steve flushes. He shakes his head. 

“Nah, still have some time to go. You?” he lets himself glance at the spot on Bucky’s thigh. 

“Same here.” Steve nods, and there’s a moment where they both reach for something to say and come up empty before there’s a knock at the door and they are informed their cars are here to bring them home.

They walk out, bracing at the sudden blast of cold air compared to the warm room they had been in. Steve, tightens his scarf around his neck, unsurprised to find the crowd of fans lingering by the door behind security barriers. The interview had gone out live, so their location would have been well publicised — the reason they had remained indoors until the cars were both there. It was easier to leave at the same time, to divide the attention and minimise the security requirements.

It’s all running smoothly; they almost make it to the cars but then there’s a loud cry from behind one of the barriers, and a figure climbs over, darting towards them. Security personnel rush in, but the person has already latched onto Bucky, grabbing his arm and pulling him around to look at her. Steve recognises the panic in Bucky’s eyes and tries to rush in, but a security guard shouts and the woman glances away, just for a second, and falls to the ground, hand clutching at her forearm as she stares at the security guard. 

Bucky is quickly ushered into a car, and Steve is led to his own, and they’re being rushed away amid camera flashes and shouts of confusion. Steve immediately takes out his phone to text Bucky, to make sure he’s okay, and is relieved when he texts back quickly.

> [Steve] Hey Buck, you okay?
> 
> [Bucky] I think so. I don’t really know what just happened though.

Steve pauses. It’s not uncommon, though it doesn’t usually escalate to that degree. Truth is, it probably won’t even make headlines outside of a select few gossip magazines with nothing better to report.

> [Steve] I think their timer was low. They thought it was you. It wasn’t.
> 
> [Bucky] Fuck. really?
> 
> [Bucky] Is that common for you big movie star types?
> 
> [Steve] not a daily occurrence, but it happens. Sorry this one was so eager.

It's a while before Bucky replies to that, and when he does it’s nothing but the name of a bar. Steve smiles, remembering the dingy little bar from their days of students. It was the closest place to the little college theatre where they spent so much of their time, and for that reason it became a favourite for the theatre students to frequent for a few drinks after opening night, or following a particularly rough rehearsal. 

Steve replies with a thumbs up and leans forward to give the address to the driver. He sees the car Bucky had been in pulling away up ahead when they pull up out front, and Steve pulls his hat down low and wraps a scarf around the lower half of his face before getting out of the car and making his way inside. Bucky is in a corner booth, and Steve makes his way over. 

“Is this seat taken?” he asks, and Bucky gestures openly at the pub, completely empty at this time of day. Steve puts his jacket on the seat opposite Bucky and glances around. It’s barely December, but they’ve already got the tree up, and lights twinkle around the room. It’s cosy. Steve gestures towards the bar. 

“Want anything? I know it’s early, but…” Bucky nods, face slightly blank. Steve smiles tightly and goes to order.

The woman behind the bar hasn’t changed at all. She was a constant fixture there back in the day, and she must be close to ninety now but she still shuffles around and pours two beers expertly when he orders. 

“Long time no see,” she quips, and Steve’s smile widens.

“Hey, Peggy. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She laughs and takes the cash he offers, turning to the old register and counting out the bills for his change.

“Oh, you flatterer. Glad to see you and your young man are still together.” Steve flushes.

“Oh, we’re not… It wasn’t like that, we just…” She raises an eyebrow, and he closes his mouth, smiling sheepishly. 

“Alright, fine. If you want to continue being coy about it.” Steve takes the beers and backs away, feeling her eyes on him as he turns to sit down opposite Bucky. He puts the beers down and slides one over.

“Did you know Peggy’s still here?” he asks, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Bucky smiles and nods. His eyes dart to the door which leads to the bathrooms and he smirks, causing Steve to flush again.

“Shut up, Bucky.” Bucky laughs out loud and takes a sip of his beer. 

“It’s been a while since college, huh?” he asks and Steve nods. They had been close in more ways than one back then — never anything serious, but there had been more than a few drunken fumbles in the bathroom here which he wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. Steve licks his lips subconsciously and takes a sip. 

He hadn’t lied to Peggy — They really had just been friends, but their chemistry hadn’t been limited to the stage and it had been pretty obvious, both to themselves and everyone around them — Peggy included, apparently. They lapse into silence, and Bucky’s smile slips away, replaced with the same blankness as before.

“I’m sorry Buck. I wish it wasn’t like this. Sometimes people just don’t know how to respect boundaries. You shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.” Bucky’s brows furrow, and he looks up at Steve.

“Neither should you. I’m more upset that this is apparently such a normal thing that you never even felt the need to mention it!” Steve blinks at the way Bucky’s expression has gone from blank and sullen to outraged. 

“It wasn’t as sudden for me. It started out a lot subtler. By the time they started actively following me to catch my eye when their timers were low it sort of felt like a logical conclusion. It’s always scary though.” Bucky bites his lip, clearly refraining from saying something, and then sighs.

“Has it ever, you know…” Steve shakes his head.

“Nah. Whatever power dictates the bond is cleverer than that. They always get distracted at the last second — a security guard, or another fan, or the friend they came with.” Steve feels his mouth twitch in the shadow of a smile. “I always wonder how they navigate that. Being bonded to someone who was  _ just  _ throwing themselves at some random actor seconds before.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You’re a catch, of course they’d want to be cosmically linked to you forever.” Steve rolls his eyes. 

“You’re right though. It’s not fair. But until I can say definitively that I know who it is, they’re going to keep trying. Same for you, unfortunately.” Bucky nods, and then his expression changes. Steve watches as he freezes, then purses his lips. He scrunches up his nose and squints, then relaxes his face and shakes his head, dismissing whatever thought had occurred to him.

“What was that?” Steve asks, and Bucky shakes his head again.

“Nothing, nothing. I had an idea, but it’d never work.” Steve is intrigued, raises an eyebrow.

“Well now you  _ need _ to tell me or I’ll forever wonder what it could be.” Bucky winces and takes a large gulp from his beer. Steve gives his best pleading look, and Bucky closes his eyes with a sigh.

“You’re an asshole. Fine, I’ll tell you. But don’t laugh, because I’m aware of how ridiculous it is.” Steve grins and rests his chin in one hand, blinking sweetly at Bucky, who snorts.

As Bucky describes his idea, Steve feels the cogs turn in his head. There are some flaws in the plan, and it’s definitely outlandish, but as Bucky speaks Steve feels a grin spread across his face.

“I’m in,” he blurts, as soon as Bucky finishes. Bucky sighs as though he knew that was exactly what Steve would say. 

“No. Steve, we can’t!” 

“Why not? Sure, the idea could use some finessing but I think we could make it work, for a few months at least. It’d be nice to get some peace — at least for the duration of the tour, until the end of the holidays.” 

“I  _ knew  _ I should’ve stayed quiet.” Steve grins at him, and they’re locked in a standoff, Steve’s bright optimism versus Bucky’s reluctant exasperation. Steve waggles his eyebrows, and Bucky frowns. Steve smiles wider, and Bucky shakes his head. Steve nods, and Bucky drops his head into his hands.

“Ugh, fine! You win. But we need to discuss this with our teams.” Steve sits back in his seat, fully aware of the shit-eating grin on his face as he finishes his beer while Bucky seems to be seriously questioning his life choices.

They both say goodbye to Peggy on the way out with promises to visit again before long, and get a car to the office of Bucky’s agent. Steve texts ahead to make sure his agent would be able to skype in, and is pleased to see that Nick seems to already be frustrated by the cryptic message.

Nick likes to live in a constant state of frustration towards Steve, so he doesn’t worry too much about it.

They show up at the office and make their way up nervously, whispering details of the plan they had worked out on the way to make sure they were in sync on the whole thing. Bucky’s agent, Pepper, greets them with a smile, and Steve sees on the laptop that Nick has called ahead, because he’s already staring at them blankly. 

Steve has the sudden vivid memory of approaching his mother to ask if he could stay over at his friend’s house, and then immediately dismisses it, knowing that neither Sarah Rogers nor Nick Fury would appreciate the comparison.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Nick grumbles.

“So Bucky, I guess you had your first soulmate near-miss?” Pepper asks, and they both nod. She looks sympathetic. Nick’s expression doesn’t change

“We had an idea,” Steve decides to rip the bandaid off and get started. Pepper gestures for them to go ahead and sits down while Nick sighs and waves his hand for them to get on with it.

“Well. We were talking, thinking about how we wouldn’t need to be so constantly on alert for people trying to force themselves on us if we were open about having met our respective soulmates,” Bucky points out, and Steve jumps in.

“Sam never has to worry about it any more, since he and Riley figured stuff out.” 

“But neither of you  _ have _ identified your soulmates yet,” Pepper frowns, tone apprehensive.

“Right, yes. So we thought, maybe, we could just… pretend our hourglasses are empty?” Fury’s expression doesn’t change, but his eye flicks between them, and his hand flattens on the surface of his desk.

“Pretend.” His voice is flat, and Steve shrugs.

“Yeah. Pretend.”

“And who would you  _ pretend  _ your soulmates are?” Pepper asks, sounding resigned already. Steve glances over at Bucky and finds him looking back. They both turn back to the desk with matching smiles, and Nick sighs.

“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” His tone implies it makes very little sense at all, but he doesn’t have the energy to argue.

“Well, we figured we already know each other pretty well,” Bucky hedges.

“Plus, it’d be great publicity for the movie! We could say it happened on set, or at the wrap party or something?” Fury leans back and folds his arms.

“And what, pray tell, happens when one or both of you find your actual soulmate?” Steve rubs the back of his neck with a shrug.

“Well, I thought it’d be, uhh...”

“We’d plan to come clean after the press tour, on New Year’s. Steve has grand ideas for a conference after this movie has died down announcing it was some sort of publicity stunt and shaming people for invading our privacy and personal space.” Steve smiles with all of his teeth, exuding innocence and sweetness while Fury looks like he would quite like to shut down his laptop and pretend he had never been present for this conversation.

“You know what? Fine. Go right ahead. God knows I won’t be able to stop you, I might as well get a head start on damage control with your PR team.” Fury disconnects, and Pepper sighs. 

“Well, I was going to phrase it a little better, but that’s about the gist of it. You can go, I’ll need to get ahead of this, too.” They nod and back out, exchanging a relieved look, and it’s only then that the scope of what the idea entails hits Steve.

Fake soulmates.

With Bucky Barnes.

He remembers back in college, when waking up in each other’s beds was a frequent occurrence — at least once per show they found themselves working on together. Steve had wondered more than once what it would have been like to feel that burning sensation on his ribcage while looking at Bucky, though he had been happy to carry on as friends, classmates and castmates until they had parted ways at graduation.

Bucky had stayed in New York. Steve had gone to L.A. Their careers had gone on different paths and he hadn’t looked back.

And now here they are.

“Well, that was easier than I expected.” Steve blinks at Bucky, who nods.

“What do we do now?” Bucky asks, and Steve puffs out his cheeks in thought.

“I have no idea, honestly.” They stand awkwardly in the lobby of the office building, looking anywhere but at each other until Bucky turns abruptly.

“Right, so we’re going to need to decide on a story. How about dinner? We can order too much food, put on a movie like old times and write our quote-unquote  _ love story?” _ Bucky smirks and Steve can feel the danger he’s walked himself into looming. But he’s never been one to back down from such an obvious challenge, so he squares his shoulders and nods.

“Sounds good. Your place or mine?” Bucky grins.

❄️

They go back to Steve’s since it’s closer, and order from the Chinese place where the delivery people don’t bat an eye at Steve anymore. They sit cross legged on the floor in front of the sofa, a holiday romcom playing on the TV, and it feels exactly like old times, except for the fact they’re on a soft rug rather than ratty carpet.

“Alright, so how should we play this? Which of our timers ran out first? Or was it one of those magical fairytale simultaneous bonds?” Bucky muses, and Steve chews on it.

“We should stick with something close to the truth. Which of us actually has less time left?” Bucky shrugs.

“I never bothered doing the rate conversion. Felt too mathematical. I want it to be natural, you know? Plus, you know they can change rates sometimes.” Steve can’t fight the smile that comes to his face then.

“Same here, actually. Didn’t want to overthink every time I made eye contact with someone on the day it happens.” Bucky nods, takes a bite of an egg roll and chews slowly before swallowing.

“Guess it’s the old fashioned way, then.” Bucky stands and starts unbuttoning his jeans, and Steve almost chokes on the wonton he had shoved in his mouth. Bucky notices and laughs.

“Calm down, Rogers. Just gotta compare how much we have left. Besides, not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.” Steve manages to swallow and takes a sip of the wine they had poured for the occasion. He distracts himself from watching Bucky shimmy his jeans down by unbuttoning the shirt he has on and slipping it off. He puts it to one side, and looks back up to see Bucky showing off one muscular thigh. 

Bucky’s right, it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before; not only back when they used to hook up, but there had been more than one intimate scene in the movie they had shot a few months ago, so really, it shouldn’t be a big deal. This is in Steve’s apartment though, and Bucky’s tattoo isn’t covered in concealer to disguise it. He isn’t acting or following a script, and Bucky has filled out a lot since college. Plus, he’s fairly certain it’s not supposed to be a sexy moment. He takes in the sight — the delicate lines of the hourglass surrounded by red tulips and ambrosia flowers, the steady stream of rich purple sand flowing between the chambers. It has certainly passed the halfway point, and it seems to be at a pretty similar level to his own. 

“I think yours has a little less left,” Bucky muses, eyes narrowed as he looks at Steve's rib cage, and the progress of his blue sand, surrounded with violets and gladioli. “But they’re probably within a few weeks of each other.” Steve nods and pulls his shirt back on, though he doesn’t button it all the way. Bucky pulls his pants back up and sits down on the rug again with a huff.

“So, I realised first, then?” Steve pops another wonton in his mouth to avoid sounding affected by what had transpired. Bucky nods.

“Yeah, how about halfway through filming? Then I caught up at the wrap party, we’ve been taking it slow because we were busy with other projects, blah blah blah, after yesterday we felt like we needed to say something, be  _ honest  _ about it.” Steve snorts at the audible air quotes Bucky places around the word  _ honest _ .

“Yeah, we can work with that. No need to be too specific about it, better to leave it vague and let them speculate for themselves.” Steve pulls out his phone and checks his email, spotting one from Nick and opening it to find details of his itinerary for the following day.

“Looks like we’re working fast. He’s marked for us to break the news before tomorrow’s interviews from the looks of things.” 

> _ I have discussed with Ms. Potts and your respective publicity teams, and they are in agreement that this is a stupid ass idea. However, since you are both stubborn idiots, this is the plan. _
> 
> _ No fanfare, a simple announcement. Unfortunately, this is being left up to you. Please be reasonable. _
> 
> _ You’ll likely be asked about it in interviews going forward, so have your story straight, and keep the focus on the movie or Stark will be after my head. _

Bucky leans in to read over Steve’s shoulder and nods. 

“Alright, social media announcement, I guess? Sounds alright. I have an idea.” Steve looks at him curiously and Bucky grabs the phone, navigating to the camera app. Steve tries to protest, and Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, sorry. I wasn’t gonna look at anything, don’t worry. Just setting up the shot.” Bucky places the phone on the coffee table and sits back next to Steve. He takes Steve’s hand and places it on his thigh, then snakes his own hand into Steve’s shirt to rest over his ribcage. Their hourglasses are on opposite sides, so the result is a fairly intimate looking embrace. Bucky rests his head on Steve’s shoulder and looks up. Steve looks down at him and can’t help but smile at the exaggeratedly lovesick expression on his face. 

The camera clicks on Steve’s phone — Bucky must have set a timer, and Steve leans forward for it, breaking their embrace. He looks at the picture and laughs.

“Classic theatre actor: no subtlety.” Bucky gasps melodramatically and grabs the phone.

“Shut up, I was being  _ cute. _ You wouldn’t know cute if it bit you on the ass.” 

“Please, I would and I have,” Steve winks, “Now what do I do with this?” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Just post it on instagram and tag me. You have more followers than me for some reason. Better reach.”

“It’s my winning personality,” Steve sighs with affected humility.

“That, or the glorified thirst traps every time you’re at the gym,” Bucky rolls his eyes but then winks. “Leave the caption simple — maybe an hourglass emoji or something, they’ll figure it out themselves.” Steve nods and does as he’s told, before switching to  _ do not disturb _ mode and putting it to one side.

He nods decisively and returns to the now mostly cold food and almost finished movie. he hadn’t paid any attention to it, but it’s pretty easy to follow — The main woman was at the airport, presumably on her way back to whatever high profile job she had loved before discovering the charms of small town life, and she turns to see a man approaching, before gasping and clutching at her chest with a smile. Why do movies always give their characters soulmarks over their hearts? It’s cheesy. 

Bucky sits next to him and they watch the ending in companionable silence until Bucky leaves shortly before midnight. They have an early morning the following day, and Steve has a feeling it’ll be pretty hectic. He resists the urge to check his instagram notifications until the following morning, but by then he is distracted by a steady stream of missed calls and texts from friends and family.

Shit. 

Probably should have talked to them first.

He texts Bucky.

> [Steve] I’m assuming family gets the truth?
> 
> [Bucky] Shit. Yeah. woke to some colorful texts and voicemails from my mom. And Becca. And all of my aunts.
> 
> [Steve] Same. 
> 
> [Steve] idk how your aunts even got my number
> 
> [Steve] JK
> 
> [Steve] but my mom, sam and nat are PISSED.
> 
> [Bucky] Can you explain to them i have seventeen aunts to calm down

Steve sends a thumbs up and starts calling people back, explaining the ruse and warning them to stay quiet about it. Sam is uncharacteristically quiet, and Natasha calls him an idiot. The call with his mom is the strangest though. He reads through her messages before calling her back, and he’s glad he had kept her till last.

> [Ma] Steve is this true <link>
> 
> [Ma] Steven Grant Rogers you had better answer me
> 
> [Ma] You could have told me
> 
> [Ma] I always knew there was something between you two.

The phone barely rings before she picks up, and Steve flinches at her usually soft voice shouting down the line.

“Steven Grant Rogers, can you please explain to me why I had to find out my son found his soulmate from  _ Valerie Stone _ of all people? I was only trying to get my hair done, and she’s off blabbing her mouth and showing us your instagram post. Obviously I pretended I already knew, but  _ really.”  _ Steve takes a deep breath, but she keeps going. “And it’s  _ Bucky? _ I’m so happy for you, but why didn’t you  _ say  _ something?”

“I’m so sorry Ma, I should’ve warned you. It was all pretty rushed and we didn’t think—”

“Why didn’t you say anything before? You know I always liked him, and I always thought—” She sounds more concerned now, and Steve cuts in before she can continue.

“It’s not real, Ma. We’re faking it.” He can hear the raised eyebrow through the phone connection. Steve stumbles through an explanation of the situation, and waits for her to respond. She sniffs in the way she always does when she’s trying to refrain from shouting, and Steve braces himself.

“Well, then. At least I know you didn’t hide meeting your actual soulmate from me, I suppose.” Steve winces at her tone, but he’s silently thankful she seems to be calm enough to use sarcasm.

“Sorry, Ma. It’s just, you’ve seen the articles of what people will do when they think they have a chance. We thought this would be easier. I promise you’ll be the first to know when it really happens.”

“Second, I hope — Unless you’re planning to withhold that information from whoever it turns out to be?” Steve snorts.

“Second person, then. I promise,” he then successfully steers the conversation to safer subjects, such as his upcoming appearances for her to record and save in order to show him off to her friends from church. 

Once he’s wrapped up with Sarah, he has to have a couple more uncomfortable conversations, though those are more difficult as he can’t exactly tell the truth to people he doesn’t trust not to go to the press with it. He makes it through with minimal damage, and wraps up right in time to leave for the meeting Nick and Pepper had set up with various publicity teams.

It’s long, and it’s dull, and Steve keeps making eye contact with Bucky and having to suppress giggles in the middle of being talked to like a middle schooler. Finally, they’re considered to be fully briefed on the strategy as it stands, and are released for a short break before they need to go to their next set of interviews.

❄️

They get lunch at a little cafe near the offices, and it’s pretty nice. They had been instructed to act “close, but not too intimate” in public for the time being, rather than going all out right away. They sit cross-corner at the little table, elbows brushing from time to time, but other than that it’s the exact same as it would have been under any other circumstances. It’s nice, really.

“How is your family?” he asks, and Bucky smiles, launching into a description of the Barnes family thanksgiving extravaganza, in which no fewer than thirty people piled into his parent’s house, followed by a chaotic black Friday. 

“I volunteered to stay back and babysit, you know how it is — it’s awkward enough getting recognised on an ordinary day — but it was fun, I got to just be Uncle Bucky for once.” Steve bites his lip to fight back a laugh, and Bucky frowns. “What’s that about?” Steve shrugs.

“Nah, it’s just… I never thought about it, but you’re  _ Uncle Buck _ . Any rogue birthday clowns to deal with? Your nephew doesn’t look like Macaulay Culkin, by any chance?” Bucky rolls his eyes and pushes Steve with a laugh.

“You’re an asshole. It’s not my fault I have a dumb name.”

“I mean, technically, you chose to keep going by Bucky, so…” Bucky narrows his eyes and Steve shuts up with another laugh. “Seriously, though, I’m glad you had a nice time.” Bucky smiles.

“Yeah, it was good. How’s Sarah?” Steve tells Bucky about his mom and their quiet thanksgiving together.

“It’s pretty nice to get some time with her, though I think it’s a good thing I’m leaving quickly this time. She didn’t seem too happy with our plan.” Bucky grimaces.

“Yeah, Becca said I was ‘as confused as an elf in the south pole’, whatever the fuck that means.”

Steve laughs and checks the time after draining the last of his coffee. He sighs.

“We should probably get going soon. Want to share a car?” Bucky nods and indicates for Steve to go ahead. 

“Well, sweetheart, we do share two halves of the same soul, might as well share a car too.” He bats his eyelashes and sticks out his tongue. Steve elects to ignore this, and calls his driver to pick them up.

He weirdly misses getting the subway, being able to move about the city on his own terms, being able to wander aimlessly and anonymously to look at the lights, but it’s been a while since he could feel comfortable doing that on his own without the constant awareness of cell phone cameras pointing at him. Or even worse, someone coming up to ask for his autograph and a selfie right before his stop.

The car is there within a few minutes and Bucky pays for their food, ignoring Steve’s protests and ushering him out the door. It’s only a short ride to the studio space they’re in today, and Steve tries to savour the sensation, knowing that tomorrow they’ll be on a plane to L.A. then jumping around from country to country promoting the movie with little time to relax.

It’s a series of shorter interviews today, so they’re set up in front of a poster for the movie and told to wait there for the first interviewer to arrive. Steve leans over to whisper in Bucky’s ear.

“You ready for this?” Bucky glances over and shrugs.

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.” Steve reaches out to pat Bucky reassuringly on the thigh, remembering belatedly that it’s the exact spot where his soulmark is located. Bucky inhales sharply but doesn’t pull away, so Steve gives it a gentle squeeze and pulls back right as a young woman walks in with her camera crew and greets them cheerfully.

“Good morning!” Steve smiles back at her, and Bucky nods. The camera starts rolling and she states the publication she works for, then introduces both of them and launches into the interview. It’s a five minute segment, so she doesn’t dwell too long on the soulmate announcement, preferring to stick with what was clearly a pre-planned structure which Steve is incredibly thankful for.

It’s over and done with before he has time to fully settle into the conversation, and they have about two minutes to relax before the next host is ushered in. This is a slightly longer segment, though still under ten minutes, and it’s a familiar flow.

“Hi, thanks for sitting down with me.”

“My pleasure, how are you?” Steve’s pretty impressed by how charming Bucky is on camera today — he has always known Bucky has charisma in spades while he’s acting — Steve’s under no delusions as to which of the pair of them has more talent in that department — but he remembers Bucky from college as being a lot less self-assured without the character as a sort of armour. Even the first set of interviews the day before had Bucky letting Steve lead the conversation, occasionally interjecting with his own thoughts but mostly staying in the background.

Now though, he’s on fire. He laughs and jokes and exudes a cool confidence which is borderline intoxicating. Steve finds himself hanging on to Bucky's every word and struggles to come up with answers of his own when he has to. Then the interviewer asks a question about their soul bond, and Bucky turns ever so slightly towards Steve, looks down as though he’s trying to avoid a blush, then meets Steve’s eyes with the sweetest trace of a smile before answering. Steve barely registers what he says, because the realisation hits him suddenly, why Bucky is suddenly so much better at this.

He’s got a character to play, and he’s playing it well. Steve scrambles to catch up, meeting Bucky’s beats and embellishing the story with his own touches. It doesn’t last long, and they wrap up the interview after only another minute or so, but it feels simultaneously perfectly right, and unsettlingly, achingly  _ wrong _ all of a sudden.

The day progresses without further incident, and they’re released to their own devices for the evening. There aren’t any fans waiting outside this time, since these interviews aren’t airing live and therefore weren’t publicised in advance. Still, they don’t linger long outside, getting into the same car and heading back to Bucky’s place in silent agreement.

It’s something they had discussed briefly the night before; that once the story was public they should keep up the appearance and stay together for the duration of the ruse. Since Bucky spends most of his time in Brooklyn, and Steve is pretty much always in L.A., it had been an easy decision to figure out whose apartment they would use in which city. Bucky had mentioned having only one bedroom, but Steve had shrugged it off.

“I mean, it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.”

“True, but need I remind you that the last time we shared a bed was almost a decade ago, and we almost definitely hooked up then.”

“Bucky!”

“What? It’s true! Besides, you brought it up!” Steve had sighed and changed the subject, but not before conceding that Bucky was probably correct. 

Now though, in the elevator up to Bucky’s apartment, Steve replays the conversation in his head and scrambles for something to avoid remembering how Bucky had looked, naked in his bed, wrapped in his bedsheets in the dingy student dorms back in the day.

“Why do you have a one bedroom? Surely theatre doesn’t pay that badly, and I know you got a decent paycheck from this job. At least enough for a guest room.” There’s a ding as the doors open, and Bucky shrugs and exits the elevator before answering.

“I probably  _ can  _ afford it, but I'm saving to buy a place. Have an agreement with the lady on the floor above me. Her place is perfect —Three bedrooms, plenty of light, everything I want — and she’s planning to move to Europe when she retires so in about a year and a half it’s all mine. Don’t see the need to move before then, you know?” Steve acknowledges that it’s reasonable, taking in Bucky’s current place when he steps into the entryway.

It’s spacious for a one-bedroom, with a large, open-plan kitchen and living area. Bucky points out which door leads to the bathroom, which is for the bedroom, and which is the office space.

“It’s mostly storage and a desk though, fair warning.” Steve has a case full of clothes he had packed the night before, realising he wouldn’t be home before their flight leaves, and he takes an aborted step towards the bedroom to leave it in there before a wave of self-consciousness takes over.

“It’s fine, go ahead. Mi casa, etcetera. Any dinner preferences?” Steve tells Bucky he’s fine with whatever, then goes in to put his case away.

The bedroom is nice; airy and fresh, with plush cushions and soft blankets. Steve smiles at the neatness of it, remembering how much Bucky used to roll his eyes at Steve’s general untidiness. They have both changed a lot since college, matured and mellowed in so many ways, but it’s comforting to see a hint of the old Bucky here. Steve leaves his case against the wall, neatly as he can, and goes back out to see Bucky relaxing on the sofa. Bucky pats the space next to him, and Steve sits.

“We have an early morning tomorrow, so we should probably sleep right after we eat. I ordered Italian, if that’s okay?” Steve nods, and they put on another cheesy holiday movie while they wait. They eat quickly once the food arrives, and then head to the bedroom together. Steve works a pair of pajama pants out of his case while trying his best not to dislodge anything else, and then pauses, wondering if he should wear a shirt too. 

“Don’t overthink this, Steve. Just sleep however you usually would.” Steve doesn’t retort that he usually sleeps naked, sticks with the pants and heads to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. When he gets back, Bucky is sitting on the bed wearing an old shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. He looks up when Steve walks in and flashes a smile as he walks out to take care of his own ablutions in the bathroom. Steve figures he should take the side of the bed opposite where Bucky had been sitting, so he plugs in his phone, double checks their itinerary and sets an alarm before climbing under the covers and settling in. Bucky returns and pauses for a moment in the doorway before shaking his head and turning off the main light, leaving them in the dim lamplight, which he switches off too after climbing into bed.

They’re silent for a while, laying in bed together stiffly.

“Steve?” Bucky whispers after a while.

“Yeah?” Steve turns his head towards Bucky, just about making out his silhouette in the light from a crack in the curtains.

“Do you think this was a stupid idea?”

“Absolutely.” Bucky laughs, and Steve adjusts so he’s lying more comfortably. “But that doesn’t mean I think we shouldn’t have done it. Not if it means we’re both safer. Besides, it’s not like spending time with you is exactly a hardship.” The bed shifts and Bucky’s face is suddenly inches from his own.

“I agree.” They drift into silence again, but it’s more comfortable than before. Steve is just beginning to drift off when a thought occurs to him.

“Hey, Buck?” Bucky hums sleepily in response, opening up one eye to look at Steve.

“Do you have any idea how smug our college friends are going to be over this?” The bed shakes with Bucky’s near-silent laughter, and he reaches out to push at Steve.

“God, they’ll be insufferable. Everyone was so sure we’d wind up actually dating, I got sick of telling them we were just friends.” Steve hums and idly debates asking who Bucky he’s still in contact with and what they’ve been doing, but Bucky’s breath evens out, hand still resting on Steve’s chest where he had nudged him before.It’s calming, sending Steve over the threshold of sleep before he can finish his thought.

❄️

Steve’s alarm blares at the ungodly hour of three a.m. and he startles awake, trying to reach out to turn it off but confused by the way his arms seem to be pinned in place. It’s not until the thing holding him down moves and swears loudly that he realises what’s happened. At some point in the night, they have moved so Bucky is laying on top of Steve, holding him like a teddy bear. They manage to untangle themselves enough to turn the alarm off, and then fall back onto the bed.

“Morning,” Steve grunts, and Bucky huffs.

“Fuckin  _ barely.” _ Steve feels a strange tingle in his side when he climbs out of bed to go to the bathroom, but when he looks down nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. His hourglass is flowing as usual, as far as he can tell, so he shrugs it off as a weird sleep thing — maybe his circulation catching up after being squished by Bucky in his sleep — and gets ready for the day of travel ahead. 

Bucky is in the kitchen when he emerges, still in his sleepwear, with mussed hair and a crease on his cheek. He’s leaning against the worktop while the coffee machine whirrs behind him, two mugs set out, ready to go. 

“I assume you need this as much as I do?” he asks, before crossing to the bathroom, brushing against Steve as he goes. Steve nods and says nothing, breathing the smell in deeply and sighing happily, the scent alone doing something to wake him up a little. They drink their coffee in the silence that only exists in the pre-dawn hours, when you wake up early to catch a flight and it feels like you’re the only person awake in the entire world — even though there are almost certainly parties still raging on two doors down.

They get dressed and Steve puts his pajamas back in his case, while Bucky retrieves an already-packed case of his own from some hidden nook. They leave in silence when the alert comes in that their car is there, and then they’re making their way to the airport. 

A week in L.A., then two more travelling the world before they’re back to L.A. again for the premiere and a final round of publicity on the more well known late night shows in the build up to Christmas. Pretending to be in love all the way.

Steve yawns widely and catches Bucky smiling at him. He knows he probably wouldn’t be happy to do this with anyone else, but with Bucky it’s alright, somehow. They both sleep on the plane, and Steve wakes up to Bucky’s head on his shoulder and the sound of soft, snuffling snores into his collarbone. Steve smiles and drifts off again, not waking up until they’re taxiing into the airport and he has to stand to grab his hand luggage. They’re driven to Steve’s place, and fall back into bed until it can be deemed a reasonable hour. 

Despite having been travelling for close to eight hours between Bucky’s place and his, it’s still barely noon California time when they wake up to Bucky’s ringtone, and Steve stretches languidly. While Bucky talks to whoever it is, Steve can’t help but think about how they had shared a bed again, despite the fact that he has more than one spare bedroom. He doesn’t mention it, figures they’re probably not made up properly anyway since he hadn’t planned on having guests when he had left for New York after wrapping on the movie a few weeks ago. He gets up and changes clothes, feeling gross in the clothes he had travelled and slept in. Bucky comes back in right as he’s pulling a shirt over his head.

“That was Natasha, she said her and Sam are catching an early dinner before the thing today, wanted to know if we’d like to join?” Steve shrugs and finishes dressing.

“Sure, sounds like a plan. I’m starved now though, and I doubt there’s anything in the fridge. Want to go for brunch?” Bucky is looking through his own case now, and he looks up at Steve with an odd expression.

“Yeah, sure. The paparazzi will expect it to be a date if we’re out in public, though.” Steve pauses, thinks about it, and shrugs, sitting on the bed.

“Hey, might as well give them some fodder so they don’t stalk us. Plus, we get good food and mimosas. Why not?”

“What a romantic date proposition. Honestly, it’s a wonder you’re still single with those moves.” Steve throws a sock at Bucky, who catches it easily and throws it back with perfect aim before heading into the en-suite to get dressed.

“But sure, I could eat. Pick somewhere with good pancakes.” Steve thinks for a while, and calls a car to pick them up and bring them to his favourite brunch place. Bucky comes out wearing dark jeans and a well-fitting grey shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned to halfway down his chest. Steve can’t help but drag his eyes over him with an impressed look. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Look, I’m not about to go on a date with my  _ soulmate  _ looking like a slob, now am I?” Steve shakes his head, not putting up any argument. 

“You’re making me feel bad for my fashion choices now.” Steve has gone for jeans too, but with an old white tee that still fits a little tight, even though he’s already lost a lot of the bulk he had put on for the last movie he filmed. Bucky raised an eyebrow and grabbed a pair of sunglasses and his wallet.

“Trust me, you have nothing to feel bad about.” Steve grins at the way Bucky’s eyes flicker down, and then stands up with a deliberate stretch.

Even though he’s been living in LA for several years now, it’s still strange to only grab a jacket in December, rather than a heavy coat, hat, scarf and gloves.

“Alright then, if you’re sure. Car’ll be here soon.” Bucky nods and they finish getting ready in silence, leaving right as Steve’s phone pings with a message from his driver.

The driver congratulates them when they get in the car, and Steve stammers his way through a thanks. It’s weirdly different lying to someone outside of the relatively impersonal circle of interviews and social media, but Bucky puts a hand on his arm, steadying him, and Steve sends him a grateful smile.

The little restaurant is quiet, but Steve knows the drill by now. It’ll be a couple of minutes to themselves, but there’s always someone who’ll spot them and share the location, and there will almost certainly be a crowd outside by the time they have their drinks in front of them. This is a nice place though, and Steve knows the staff. The paparazzi might get a few pictures through the windows, but they won’t be bothered beyond that until they’re ready to leave and have to make their way back out onto the street. It’s a perfect balance for what they need.

They’re greeted at the door by a server, who tries to show Steve to his usual spot near the back, making it more difficult for photographers. He shakes his head, and indicates somewhere else.

“I think we’d like to sit in the sunshine a little, don’t you, Buck?” Bucky seems to catch on, because he nods and loops his arm into Steve’s, aiming a soppy smile up at him. The server smiles indulgently, and leads them to the table. 

“Here are your menus, sirs. Can I get you a drink to start with?” They order mimosas, and settle into their seats.

“Good call on the table,” Bucky says under his breath while they wait for the drinks, “No point in going out to get spotted if nobody can spot us.” Steve shrugs and opens his mouth to reply, but someone walks by their table, so he snaps it shut again, sliding a hand over the table in a silent offering.

“I know you said you wanted pancakes, but I do feel honor-bound to tell you this place has the  _ best _ eggs florentine I’ve ever tried.” Bucky blinks at Steve, then down to his hand. He smiles a little, then reaches out to entwine their fingers together.

It’s surprisingly nice.

They order their food when the drinks arrive, and they sit in mostly silence while they wait. Not long after the server comes out with their steaming plates of food, Steve notices Bucky’s eyes flicker to the window. Steve raises a subtle questioning brow, and Bucky nods. Under the guise of making Bucky take a bite of his eggs, Steve pulls his chair over so he can see out the window, easily spotting the photographers casually relaxing outside. 

He almost forgets the fork he’s holding out until he glances down to see Bucky leaning in and wrapping his lips around it, eyes fluttering closed with a sigh as he tastes the egg and creamy hollandaise.

Steve clears his throat and goes back to his food, and Bucky smirks at him.

“You’re right, they are good eggs.” Steve sees the twinkle in his eye, recognises the challenge. He reaches out, runs his pinky through the syrup on Bucky’s plate and then licks his finger, sucking on it a little before releasing it.

Steve Rogers has never backed down from a challenge.

And besides, they aren’t actually flirting. They’re playing a game, acting like the soulmate equivalent of newlyweds for the photographers outside the window. None of this is real, so when Bucky gets a smudge of whipped cream on his nose, Steve has no qualms about reaching out to wipe it away, then letting Bucky lick it from his fingers.

He’s not affected in the slightest, honestly.

They leave the restaurant and head back to Steve’s to relax for a while before meeting Sam and Natasha for dinner. It’s a relaxing day, and neither of them mention the restaurant.

“So, have fun at brunch today?” Sam’s first words to them when they show up for dinner together cause Steve to cringe, but Bucky laughs.

“Well, you know how it is,” he shrugs and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Sure! I’ve  _ totally  _ pretended to be someone’s soulmate for the press, very relatable.” Natasha gives an exaggerated gasp, while Steve and Bucky shush him urgently, well aware of their public location.

“Samuel Wilson! Better not let Riley hear you say that,” Natasha jokes, and Sam laughs.

“Yeah, yeah alright. Seriously though, who’s dumbass idea was this?” Steve points at Bucky and, at Sam’s laugh, glances over to see Bucky pointing at him.

“It was absolutely your idea! You said—”

“Sure, but I  _ also _ said it was a dumb idea and we shouldn’t do it!” They bicker all the way through drinks — quietly, and masked by sweet smiles and casual flirty touches, until Sam throws a bread roll at them.

“This is highly disturbing. I’m gonna need you to stop this, immediately.” Steve stops, and smiles apologetically at his friends.

“Right. Sorry.” They drop it, and stick to more casual contact for the rest of the meal.

Well, casual so long as there isn’t a server passing by. Or a reasonable suspicion that the person two tables over is subtly tweeting about them under the table. Natasha rolls her eyes at them each time they casually brush each other’s arm and keep eye contact a little longer than strictly necessary, and Sam shakes his head. It’s fun, like a game they’re playing — attempting to one-up each other while embarrassing their friends at the same time.

The interview that evening goes well again, the four of them playing off each other well and the host actually asking decent questions that allow them to get comfortable, to settle into the conversation naturally. The host clears her throat and smiles.

“So I know you’ve been asked about it before, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t address it. Steve and Bucky, You recently announced that you’re soulmates, using this adorable instagram post—” she gestures to the screen behind her where the photograph is displayed.

“There’s been a lot of speculation on when the bond was activated, if either of you wanted to shed some light on that?” 

“During filming, about halfway through.”

“At the wrap party.”

Steve and Bucky both speak at the same time and Steve turns red, glancing at Bucky who shrugs with a half-smile.

“Yeah, Steve got there a couple of weeks before me, I guess. I’ve always followed his lead, really, even back in college.” Steve feels himself turn a darker shade of red as he nods, and then Bucky nudges him. He looks over, and Bucky is smiling at him, so he smiles back and instantly he’s reminded of the first show they had auditioned for together.

Bucky had been hesitant to go along, still undecided whether or not he wanted to commit to the theatre major or switch it to a minor, but Steve had convinced him to go along, just for this one audition. Bucky had gotten the lead, and never questioned his major again.

He blinks and looks away, catching a knowing smile on the host's face as she diverts the subject to ask Natasha or Sam a question — Steve isn’t actually sure who. It takes him a few moments to fully regain a grasp of the conversation, and the rest of the interview is mostly a blur.

The rest of their time in LA passes by in a flurry. They go from interview to interview, with short periods of rest in between which they spend parked in front of the TV or going on fake dates. At one point, it occurs to Steve that they still haven't set up the guest room. Bucky gives him an odd look when he mentions it.

"I mean, the way I see it we aren't likely to have separate bedrooms on tour, are we? Might as well get used to it now." Steve agrees without complaint, feeling a strange sense of relief that Bucky is as okay with this as he is. 

The thing is, Steve really likes sleeping next to Bucky. They are both naturally cuddly people, and it's nice to wake up with someone's arms around you. Steve wouldn't like to lose that before he has to.

Before he finds his real soulmate, that is. He's not sure why that thought is disappointing.

❄️

They go through interview after interview — one surrounded by puppies, one game of beer pong, more than a few iterations of the newlywed game which they surprisingly nail, but also more serious round table discussions of acting craft and storytelling.

Steve is about ready to fall asleep for a month and declare he’s never doing another press tour again by the time they are preparing to leave for the global portion of their trip. Surprisingly, as he looks through the itinerary which had been forwarded on to him, he notices it is significantly different to the usual routine.

“Buck, do you see this?” Bucky looks up and shrugs.

“Looks like they’re really putting money into us as a couple, huh?” Bucky is right. They are almost always booked together for the duration of the tour, rather than being paired with one of the others. More than that, though, there are “date nights” scheduled in almost every city they were due to visit — Vancouver, Paris, London, and Tokyo. Steve honestly doesn’t remember any time he had done press for a film — even much bigger productions with longer timelines — during which he had gotten time to spend exploring the cities he visited. He looks at Bucky and smiles.

Sure, it’s only an hour or two in each city, but still, he’s looking forward to it.

The enthusiasm is short-lived. Vancouver is a disaster, their “date” — while in a beautiful location with a stunning view of the lights outside — is ultimately little more than a staged photo opportunity which was leaked to the press in advance. Steve feels a little like an animal in a cage at the zoo, people leering in at them while they eat and then being ushered back to the hotel to do another phone interview before he can sleep. He doesn’t hold out much hope that the rest of the cities will be any better.

The days begin to blend together, the cities only distinguishable from each other during the short period of time in which they are sent to sit in fancy restaurants with views of beautiful landmarks decked out for the holidays, none of which they actually have time to visit. 

Steve grows to relish the quiet moments in their hotel rooms, after they are allowed to retire for the night and they order room service (because the restaurants never have large enough portions to satisfy) and sit on their large bed, watching holiday movies and talking about all the reasons they got into this business in the first place, in order to dissuade each other from packing their things and walking out.

“I’ll tell you something though, I don’t envy you doing all this again in six months time for Cap,” Bucky comments on their last night in Paris, and Steve flops down so his head is resting on Bucky’s leg with a groan.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I won’t even have you to keep me company.” He pouts and blinks up at Bucky, who laughs and nudges him off his lap.

“Woe is you, I get it. You’ll survive; you’ve done it before.” Steve nods, but the idea of doing this again without Bucky, being alone again in another series of big, soulless hotel suites — it hurts. Whoever his soulmate turns out to be, unless it happens to be another co-star, he’ll never have this again. He wonders how Sam manages it, spending weeks at a time unable to see Riley, unable to hold him and spend every waking minute with him. 

Steve shakes himself out of it, smiles at Bucky, and goes back to his food. 

Before he knows it, they’re on yet another plane bound for L.A. and Steve wonders what will happen once the rush of the press tour is over for them. Surely Bucky will go back to New York for whatever show he has lined up next, and Steve will stay in his large, empty house on the west coast. Things will go back to normal. They’ll eventually find their real soulmates and have to come up with a story to explain their lies.

He isn’t looking forward to any of it.

They land in the early morning, but they only have a couple of hours to rest before a team of stylists are due to arrive to get them ready for the red carpet. Bucky goes straight to Steve’s bed and flops down, announcing he’s going to sleep and isn’t to be disturbed until the last possible moment, so Steve goes for a shower to give him some peace.

He’s drying off in the bathroom mirror when his eyes are drawn to the tattoo on his ribcage. In spite of the weird tingles he sometimes gets when Bucky nudges him near that spot, he hasn’t actually paid any attention to the hourglass since the night they had compared the remaining time they each had.

Now, he wishes he had paid closer attention to the flowing sand, because he is surprised to see it almost entirely depleted. Their initial guess of several months had clearly been off, because from the looks of things there’s hardly a day left in it. 

Less than a day until he finds his true soulmate. He pulls on a t-shirt and peeks into the bedroom where Bucky is sprawled out on the bed, a tendril of hair over his face. A soft snore is audible even from the door, and Steve debates how he should break the news. 

No point in waking him up, he figures. He’ll tell Bucky when he wakes up later, and then they’ll figure out their next steps.

At a loss for what to do and no longer feeling the slightest bit tired in spite of the jetlag, Steve orders some food and sits in his living room with the TV droning in the background until it arrives. As if summoned, Bucky shuffles out of the bedroom as soon as Steve begins to dish up the meal, and Steve offers him a plate. It’s breakfast food, just like they had the last time they were in LA, and Bucky digs in.

Steve wonders if he should bring up his hourglass now, but decides it can wait.

He doesn’t tell Bucky when they begin to tidy away the dishes, or when they are sitting together, halfway in and out of sleep while waiting for the stylist team to arrive. He tries not to think about it while they are being dressed, adjusted, and groomed — though he does make sure his tattoo stays out of sight for the duration. 

Then, he’s looking at Bucky; hair swept back, face shaved and wearing a stunning blue velvet jacket. Bucky smiles at Steve; eyes bright and shining, and Steve says nothing. He’s not sure if he would even be able to get the words out.

❄️

The red carpet is as loud and overwhelming as it always is, but Bucky’s presence at his side makes it all bearable. They pose for the photographers, stop for interviews and remain a constant presence at each other’s side. Bucky’s hand slips into Steve’s about halfway down, and he squeezes gently. Steve looks at Bucky and suddenly it all becomes clear.

Steve doesn’t want to tell Bucky he’s going to discover his real soulmate in the next twenty four hours because maybe — just maybe — if he doesn’t say anything, he can prevent it from happening. He can keep pretending this is real. Pretending that Bucky really is his soulmate and that this isn’t merely a temporary solution.

He swallows away the newly formed lump in his throat and ignores the flutter in his chest, and continues down the red carpet, smiling his bright, movie-star smile for the cameras and schmoozing with the other celebrities walking along with them. Bucky holds his hand the whole way and leans close to whisper in his ear when he spots Sam with Riley up ahead.

Steve likes Riley, though he hasn’t had much time to spend with him since he and Sam had gotten together. They join forces and Steve is relieved to have more people around for support, though it does double the attention on them as people clamour for a photo or soundbyte from the two couples. Bucky plays the part well as always, and Steve keeps up the act.

Now though, he isn’t sure exactly how much of it is an act on his own part. He’s almost relieved to get into the theatre, to get up on stage for the introduction to the film and then into his seat next to Bucky’s. The lights go down, and Steve can relax. There’s no need to act any more. There are no cameras in here, and all eyes are on the screen. Still, Bucky places his hand on the armrest, palm up. Steve glances down at it, then over at Bucky, who raises a brow. Steve shrugs and rests his hand in Bucky’s, neither of them making any move to separate them as the film begins. 

He doesn’t actually pay attention to the screen, too preoccupied with the realisation that he seems to be developing feelings for Bucky a matter of hours before he is to discover who his soulmate is. Or, more accurately, recognising the feelings he has always had. Bucky nudges him at some point, and Steve blinks over at him, unsure of how long he had been staring blankly down at their entwined hands. Bucky glances and the screen with a smirk and Steve glances up to see the two of them, thirty feet tall on the big screen, making out intensely against a wall. Steve flushes and rubs the back of his neck as a loud whoop is heard from somewhere behind them.

He hears Bucky snort beside him and retaliates with an elbow to the ribs. When Bucky returns the favour, Steve once again feels the tingle in his ribs which tells him the nudge brushed against his soulmark, and it drives him to break their hands apart with an apologetic look, picking up his drink and taking a sip as an excuse. The sensation is more intense than it used to be, he realises, and wonders how he hadn’t noticed it growing. Bucky looks confused, but thankfully settles back into his seat without questioning it.

Steve feels distinctly shitty.

They remain like that until the credits roll, Steve aware of every point of Bucky’s body next to his, so close but never touching. By the time they leave the theatre and face the crowds again, Steve is feeling geared up and restless. They get to the location of the afterparty, and it’s beautifully decorated, trees in every corner, warm white lights and red garlands twinkling everywhere. Steve can barely appreciate it though, flagging down a waiter with glasses of champagne as soon as he gets inside. He grabs one for himself and one for Bucky, then downs his own in one gulp while Bucky takes a more dignified sip.

“Everything alright, Steve?” Bucky is looking at him with a funny expression, and his eyes reflect the lights so beautifully Steve can’t speak, even if he did know what he could possibly answer with. How can  _ anything  _ be alright when he knows that in a matter of hours he’s going to find out who is destined to be the one person he belongs with, when he somehow thought it would be a good idea to pretend to be soulmates with the guy he’s coming to realise he has been in love with since college?

Steve shrugs and puts down the empty champagne flute.

“Sorry, I just… I think the jetlag is finally hitting me, you know? I’m going to go find a bathroom and freshen up a little.” Bucky nods, though there is concern on his face.

“Alright, just text me if you need me alright? I’ll be here.” Bucky leans in and Steve’s heart skips a beat at the gentle kiss to his cheek, barely managing to disguise the way his breath catches. Bucky winks with a light chuckle, and flicks his eyes up to the ceiling.

“Mistletoe,” he clarifies, and Steve can barely make his legs move to carry him to the men’s room, where he splashes a large quantity of water on his face and stares at himself blankly in the mirror until he hears a voice behind him.

“I take it your little plot is going great, then?” Steve blinks and looks at the reflection of the person behind him.

“Natasha? Why are you in here? This is the men’s room, someone could be—” She rolls her eyes and moves to stand next to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” she answers cryptically. “I just came in to talk, it seemed like you needed it.” Steve sighs and turns around to face her, leaning back against the sink.

“Thanks. I— I knew this was a dumb idea all along, but never realised  _ how _ dumb it was.” Natasha raises an eyebrow at him and nods.

“You love him.” She says it simply, but hearing it aloud like that is the final blow to his carefully held composure, and Steve slumps. Natasha reaches out to rest a hand on his arm, and Steve leans into the touch. Natasha isn’t a physically affectionate person; she rarely initiates physical contact beyond a handshake, so this touch means a lot. It’s comfort, and support, and exactly what Steve needs. He nods stiffly, trying to avoid tears.

“I really don’t know what I'm going to do after tomorrow,” he admits through clenched teeth.

“Tomorrow?” Steve nods at her question, glances at the door and untucks his shirt, pulling it up so she can see his hourglass. She gives a low whistle.

“I’d say that’s less than ten hours, based on the speed it’s flowing at. Do you think…?” Steve shakes his head at her unfinished question.

“I’m not that lucky,” he answers, “and besides, I don’t want to get my hopes up. Whoever it is—” He has to stop there to gather himself again, “Whoever it is, I don’t want to be disappointed. I can’t do that to them.” She nods and hums while Steve tucks his shirt back in.

“You’re a good man, Steve. I hope you aren’t disappointed either, for the record. But not for their sake; for yours. You deserve to have the soulmate you dream about.” Steve smiles at her, and sees her touching a spot to the left of her navel. Natasha always wears high-waisted pants or dresses, and Steve knows she must have her soulmark there because she once borrowed a concealer from him to cover up a patch that got exposed during a late shoot.

She has never shown any of them her tattoo as far as Steve knows, and he suddenly realises he has never asked her about it before. She catches his glance and smiles ruefully. 

“I have years left. Decades, probably. It’s so slow, sometimes it looks like it’s not moving at all.” Steve’s eyes widen. It’s incredibly rare for someone to have to wait beyond their thirties to find the identity of their soulmate, but it has been known to happen. Often, people with a lot of time spend their lives hiding from love, not wanting to risk falling in love with anyone who wouldn’t turn out to be their destined soulmate. Others try to live as carefully as possible, avoiding anything which might lessen their chances of living to whatever age their timer was set for. Natasha has never struck him as that type. Though she is slow to open up to people, she never seems to be resigned to waiting. She always appears to live her life freely and without concern for what might happen in the future, and he envies her that.

“I figure, why bother holding out for a happiness that may not come until I'm in my seventies? When I find them, I want to be able to share stories of a life well lived. If I fall in love before my timer runs out, I don’t want it to be tainted by the thought of whether or not I’ll have to leave them for my soulmate.” Steve listens to her, and it makes sense. 

It strikes him the only thing which had prevented him from falling in love with Bucky over the decade since they first met was the fear of having to leave him for his soulmate someday. He knows that sometimes soulmates decide not to get together, and they live perfectly happily with their chosen partners, or as close friends. He knows people date and fall in love with others on the mutual understanding that if they don’t turn out to be soulmates, they’ll part ways without hard feelings. He’s never been sure if that’s something he could manage for himself, though.

“Thanks, Natasha. For telling me.” She shrugs and nods to the door. 

“We should head out now, before people start to question what we’re doing in here.” Steve snorts and checks his face in the mirror. Not too blotchy — he should be able to pass off the redness around his eyes and in his cheeks as nothing but tiredness and alcohol. They emerge from the bathroom to find the party in full swing. Steve gets another drink and heads off to find Bucky while Natasha disappears into the crowd.

Bucky is at the bar talking to Sam and Riley, but they both peel away when they spot Steve. Bucky turns and breaks into a wide grin when he sees Steve approach.

“Stevie! There you are!” Steve can’t help but smile back and return the hug Bucky gives him.

“Sorry, got talking to Natasha. Everything good?” Bucky nods, keeping his arms looped around Steve’s waist.

“I did shots with Riley. You need to catch up.” Steve looks down at Bucky, reflects on his conversation with Natasha and the fact that Bucky always gets handsy when he drinks, and nods. He’ll need some liquid courage to get through tonight.

He lets Bucky order him a shot and downs it right away, then orders another round. A few people join them and Steve tries to forget about what was troubling him in favour of enjoying himself, just for tonight. He doesn’t fight it when Bucky pulls him out onto the dancefloor, letting himself be led in a dance that’s little more than their bodies moving against each other. 

He loses himself in the feeling of Bucky’s hands on his body, their chests touching and Bucky’s breath on his face and neck in such close proximity. The alcohol kicks in and Steve begins to enjoy himself. Bucky leans in closer, mouth to Steve’s ear and his breath is hot as he whispers. Steve almost misses what he says in the haze of sensations, but when he catches on his breath hitches.

“Lotta people around right now, Stevie. Gotta sell it, right?” Bucky is looking up at him with a challenge in his eyes. Steve’s heart beats painfully loud and he nods, and he watches as Bucky’s tongue flits out to wet his lips. 

“Gotta sell it,” Steve mutters, more as a reminder to himself than anything else. There is a repeating mantra in the back of his head that this is a bad idea. It’s self-destructive and reckless, but when Bucky surges forward to crash their lips together all logical thought flies out of Steve’s head and he kisses Bucky back as if this was real. As if they really are soulmates, celebrating the release of the film which had brought them together. As if he isn’t going to have to break his own heart tomorrow when he learns who his soulmate is and has to explain to them what he did, and then somehow end things with Bucky.

He kisses Bucky like there’s nobody watching, and he lets himself put everything he’s feeling into it. Bucky gasps against his lips and Steve feels hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling them closer together. Steve brings a hand up to nestle in Bucky’s hair while the other rests on his lower back. It’s nothing like it used to be, back when they would make out like the horny twenty year olds they were, and it’s different to their kisses in character too.

Steve isn’t sure why this is different, because they’re still acting — or at least, Bucky is. Steve may no longer be playing a role with this, but that doesn’t explain why Bucky is licking into his mouth with such urgency. It doesn’t explain the soft noise Steve hears when they pull apart, the way Bucky nuzzles his face into his beard, or the expression on Bucky’s face as they stare into each other’s eyes amid the flashing lights and press of bodies around them.

“Well played,” Bucky all but gasps, and Steve feels his face heat up. He doesn’t know whether Bucky is just  _ that  _ talented, or if he was projecting what he wanted onto the kiss, but he feels giddy as they continue to dance and exchange small kisses well into the night. They get home in the early hours of the morning, and all thoughts of his hourglass — the ticking bomb about to blow up everything they had — leave Steve’s mind as they collapse together in a tangle of limbs, still half dressed in their suits.

❄️

Steve wakes with a throbbing headache and a dry mouth, and rolls out of bed to close the curtains and get a glass of water and an aspirin. He grabs another for Bucky, placing it on the bedside table before falling back into bed and going back to sleep. He’s feeling a little more human the next time he wakes up, and he looks over to see Bucky is still asleep, though the glass has been depleted and his shirt removed so Steve assumes he woke up at some point since. 

The curtains are opened barely a crack, and early morning sunlight streams in. Steve lets himself look at Bucky, taking in the lines of his face and the subtle freckles on his nose. The shadow of stubble which has grown since the previous day and the slight beard burn along his jaw which makes Steve flush deeply. His hair is sticking up in all directions thanks to the leftover product in it. He’s gorgeous. 

As Steve watches, Bucky’s nose scrunches up and he shifts in his sleep. Steve smiles softly, and suddenly there’s a painful burning sensation all down his right side. On instinct, he swears and doubles over in pain, the sudden movement causing Bucky to wake with a confused shout.

“What is it? Steve? Everything okay?” Bucky looks at Steve in concern and reaches out to touch him, but Steve jerks away.

“Sorry, I need to—” He gets up and all but runs to the bathroom, hoping Bucky will assume he’s sick from the night before.

He rips off his shirt as soon as the door is closed behind him and looks at his tattoo. The upper chamber of the hourglass is empty, and the flowers which were woven around the edge seem to be glowing while the skin underneath is bright red and tender to the touch.

He’s still tired enough and hungover enough that it takes a minute of staring for the truth to sink in.

Bucky is his soulmate. 

It’s  _ real _ , all of it — at least on his end.

He laughs, sharp and unexpected, and Bucky’s concerned voice comes from outside the door.

“Steve, is everything okay? I have water if you feel up to taking a drink?” Steve swallows heavily and tries to figure out what to do. The idea of telling Bucky the truth right now, that they really are soulmates, that he’s in love with him and maybe has been since college, that he didn’t even realise  _ himself  _ until the previous day — it’s all too much to process at the moment, and Steve’s stomach turns at the thought, almost making him do exactly what Bucky thinks he’s doing in the bathroom. 

Instead, he puts back on his shirt, takes a steadying breath, and opens the door. Bucky is standing there with a glass of water, and Steve takes it. Their fingers brush and Steve almost drops the glass at the spark of electricity which shoots down his arm into the still-burning skin of his soulmark. He smiles shakily and takes a sip, before going back to sit on the bed. Bucky hovers for a moment, before making an excuse — something to do with coffee, and food — and leaves the room. Steve watches him go, still partially in shock, and then snaps into action. He’s going to need to shower and get dressed while Bucky is busy; he can’t let Bucky see him with his shirt off. At least, not until he figures out a way to tell him the truth properly.

He heads back into the bathroom, bringing clothes with him. On his way, he grabs his phone and unlocks it, seeing a message from Natasha with a single question mark. He remembers talking to her, showing her how little time there was left. He sends back a simple reply before getting into the shower and quickly washing away the sweaty residue of the night before.

> [Steve] it’s him. Haven’t said anything yet. Idk how to tell him

Once he’s washed and dressed, he checks again and sees that she has replied with a gif of someone rolling their eyes. He thinks she’s probably right, it probably is simpler than he’s working it up to be, but he goes out to the kitchen nonetheless and tries to act casual as he sits across from Bucky at the breakfast bar.

“Feeling better?” he asks, and Steve nods with a smile possibly a shade too bright. 

“How are you? You drank about as much as I did.” 

“I’m good, thanks to the water and aspirin you left out for me.” Bucky turns and dishes up a large plate of french toast with syrup, which sets Steve’s mouth watering. He didn’t even think there were eggs or bread in the house after their long absence. Bucky shrugs it off with a secretive wink, and Steve thinks he may be taking lessons in mystery from Natasha.

Steve digs in, suddenly ravenous, and the warm food settles his stomach in a way he hadn’t even realised was necessary. They eat in mostly silence, and Steve can almost trick himself into thinking nothing has changed. Maybe he can just… keep pretending for a while, until Bucky’s timer runs out as well. 

It’s not the healthiest decision, he knows, but neither was starting this whole charade in the first place.

There’s less than a week left before Christmas, before their contract ends, and hopefully the downtime will allow them to get out of the public eye for a while, and simply be  _ them _ .

Bucky has an audition tape to record, so he heads upstairs to one of the spare rooms,, and Steve sits down to contemplate his life. He still hasn’t gotten any Christmas decorations up, and it’s only a couple of days away. He goes out to the garage and pulls out a large box, deciding he might as well distract himself. While he sets up the artificial tree and untangles the lights, he takes out his phone to call his mom and puts in his earbuds to talk to her while he works.

“Steve! How was the premiere? You looked wonderful, and I saw there are already reviews! I can’t wait—”

“Mom,” he starts, and to his embarrassment his voice cracks. Her tone changes immediately, turns protective and gentle.

“Oh, what’s happened, love?” Steve sighs, works out a particularly difficult knot, and figures out what to say.

“I promised you’d be the second person I told. When I found my soulmate.” Sarah gasps, and Steve can feel her excitement down the phone.

“Steven Grant Rogers! You had me thinking it was bad news! Who is it? How did you find out?” Steve smiles.

“It’s him. It’s Bucky.” She’s quiet for long enough that Steve almost thinks the call might have disconnected, but then he hears the telltale sound of her laugh.

“I knew it would be Bucky! Didn’t I tell you?” Steve huffs a laugh and agrees.

“Yeah, I guess you did call it,” he muses, but then she asks the question he’s been dreading.

“How did he take it?”

Steve sighs, and she immediately catches on.

“I thought you said I was the second person you told?” Steve winces.

“Yeah, I… I told Natasha. I was sort of whining to her about how I wanted it to be him, and then I woke up this morning and saw him and it happened, and I— I wasn’t thinking straight.” Sarah tuts, and he knows exactly what expression she’s making.

“Steven Grant Rogers, you get off this phone right now and go tell that boy he’s your soulmate. He deserves to know.” Steve sighs, but hangs up with assurances that he will.

He doesn’t want to interrupt Bucky while he’s working, but… after. He’ll tell him after. He gets the lights untangled and starts to hang them up.

❄️

There’s another interview that evening — some late night show where they are set to appear once again alongside Sam and Natasha, along with the film’s director, Tony Stark. Bucky doesn’t emerge until right before they have to leave, and Steve feels the mark searing his skin, begging him to say something, but he doesn’t want it to be rushed.

It’s a relief not to be the main focus of the interview, answering questions about the movie rather than their personal lives and then being roped into a game of charades on camera which resulted in Tony animatedly shouting “Blowjobs!” and Sam sputtering while Bucky attempted to mime brushing his teeth.

By the time the interview wraps up, Steve is in much better spirits, and he’s happy to recline with Bucky on the sofa while The Grinch plays in the background without feeling as though he’s about to jump out of his skin every time they touch.

“Hey, Steve?” Bucky asks at one point. 

“Hmm?” Steve rolls his head over on the back of the sofa to look at Bucky.

“I was wondering about last night, why’d you go so hard on that kiss?” Steve flushes and tries to come up with an excuse. It would be the perfect moment to say something, and the words are forming in his mind, but somehow he can’t get them out.

“I dunno, Buck. I’d had a few drinks, and you said we needed to sell it.” Steve tries to sound casual, but his heart is racing and he hates himself a little for lying. “Was it okay?” Bucky nods, but his lips are pursed in a way that tells Steve he suspects there’s more to it. 

They head to bed after that, and Bucky looks at him oddly when he comes to bed wearing a shirt. Steve’s heart only aches a little bit when Bucky instinctively pulls him close and nestles his head against his chest.

There’s a long panel the following morning, with the four main cast members along with various crew members participating together. Steve’s brain is fried by the end of it, but he only has an hour to unwind before he’s brought to a solo interview and then one with Sam in the afternoon. He’s kept so busy he tries to tell himself that he wouldn’t have time to talk to Bucky about the  _ Soulmate Thing _ , as he has come to refer to it, even if he had planned to.

He’s tired and bordering on grumpy when Nick calls the two of them in for a meeting right before their final set of interviews on the 23rd. Steve goes reluctantly and resolves to say as little as possible to avoid saying something he’ll regret. He should have known that was too much to hope for at this stage.

Pepper is calling in this time, and she smiles at them from Nick’s computer.

“Thanks for coming in, I know you’re both probably tired by now.” Steve shrugs, and Bucky shoots him a confused look. He knows he’s been a little off this week, but he doesn’t know how to act around Bucky anymore.

“Is everything okay?” Bucky asks, and Nick shrugs. 

“I just wanted to check in. It’s been a couple of weeks since you agreed to this—” Nick gestures vaguely “—thing. We’re going to need to verify how long we have before I need to start planning disclosure statements.” Steve freezes, and avoids eye contact. Bucky speaks so casually that Steve almost doesn’t register what he’s saying.

“I actually meant to talk to you about that. I think I misjudged the rate my sand was flowing at. I’m getting close to the end, so it’ll probably be sooner than we expected.” Nick raises an eyebrow, but shows no other sign of surprise. Steve, meanwhile, is staring at Bucky. He thought there’d be longer before Bucky’s timer ran out, but apparently his wasn’t the only one that had somehow sped up over the course of their global trip.

He blinks, and realises there are three eyes looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” he asks eloquently, and Nick clenches his jaw.

“I said, how long do you have left?” Steve says nothing, and Bucky looks confused.

“You were supposed to be first, so it can’t be too long, right? Unless it slowed down.” Steve shakes his head.

“Steve, this is important. It was your plan in the first place, I really only need a rough timeline,” Nick entreats, and Steve closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to avoid the questions. He feels like a cornered animal once again, no escape from the situation. He could lie, but that would only come back to bite him in the ass later. He should have told Bucky already. It shouldn’t have to happen like this, in a dingy office with a half-assed, sad looking tree in the corner and fluorescent lights overhead, with Nick glaring at him and Pepper frowning out of a computer.

Nick asks him again, but it’s the expression on Bucky’s face which breaks him. It’s full of concern, and hurt, and the same something Steve noticed when he had asked about the kiss the other day. He almost thinks it might be hope, but that makes no sense.

“It’s already gone, alright. Are you happy now? My hourglass is empty.” With that, Steve stands and storms out of the room. He has a phone interview in twenty minutes, followed by a group panel and another interview with Bucky. If he times it right, gets out to the car in time, he can avoid anything more than an on-screen conversation with either of them until well into the evening. His phone buzzes with messages from Bucky, which he ignores with no small amount of guilt. 

The reporter calls right as he spots Bucky coming towards him where he sits in the car, and Steve answers quickly. He keeps talking longer than he should, until they’re only a few minutes out from the panel. The reporter sounds delighted with the extra content, but Bucky is clearly upset with him. Steve ignores it, throwing himself into the interviews and avoiding anything more meaningful than their experiences in the various cities they had visited.

He should have said something before.

❄️

Natasha and Sam both give him concerned looks when they see him, but a shake of the head deters them from asking him any questions.

The adrenaline has worn off by the time they get to the interview with Steve and Bucky on their own, and guilt crashes down on him in the few minutes they have in the green room. Bucky is no longer trying to talk to him, the confusion replaced with a coldness that pierces Steve’s soul.

“Buck?” he approaches and asks quietly. Bucky looks up from where he’s seated, face expressionless but for a subtle tightening of the muscles around his lips. 

“I — I’m sorry. I should’ve said something before, but I didn’t know—”

“Who is it?” Bucky snaps, and he sounds hurt. “You’ve been going around with me, pretending I’m your soulmate when your actual soulmate was out there somewhere, watching? Do they even know? How do you think that makes me feel? Fuck, Steve, the way you kissed me at the premiere party, what was that about?” Steve shakes his head and reaches out, but Bucky flinches away and Steve retreats.

“It’s not like that, Buck. I swear I’d never—” he’s interrupted by the door opening.

“Mr Barnes, Mr Rogers, We’re ready for you now.” Steve thanks the assistant, but heaves a frustrated sigh when she’s out of earshot.

“Can we talk after? I promise it’s not what you’re thinking.” Bucky clenches his jaw, but he nods. They head out to the interview and their faces transform flawlessly into the open, happy and excited personas they have perfected for this kind of thing.

The host introduces them the same way they always do, and they get through the initial chit chat about the press tour so far, and some snippets about the film and the initial critical response. 

“Now, I know you’ve talked about your relationship a little bit in the past, but I have to ask. You’ve known each other for close to a decade, ever since your days in college,” a picture of Steve and Bucky in Spring Awakening, baby faces and bad haircuts on full display, and the host pauses for the laughter and ‘ _ aww’ _ s from the audience before finishing her question.

“It  _ is  _ common that soulmates know each other to some degree before the bond activates, but what was it like finding out who your soulmate is after knowing each other for so long?” Bucky stops to think, but Steve actually has an answer, so he speaks up instead.

“Honestly, I didn’t know what was happening at first. We were spending more and more time together, what with… filming… and so on, and then one day, I was half asleep and a little out of it, and I— I looked over at him, at this guy I basically know as well as I know myself — even if we had lost touch for a while — and it just… That’s when it happened.” Steve is about to say something else, but Bucky — who Steve belatedly notices looks as though he’s about to cry listening to Steve speak — swears and makes an aborted movement to grab his leg. 

Steve’s heart jumps and he meets Bucky’s eyes before looking back at the interviewer.

“Like I said though, I was clueless for a minute or two. Thought I had been burned or stung by something — nobody ever tells you about the pain when the timer runs out, it was like being tattooed for real, with no warning,” he glances over again to see realisation dawn across Bucky’s face as he continues. “Once I saw the mark, though, it all came together.” Bucky gives a wide-eyed, stiff smile and nods. Steve thinks that’s going to be it, but Bucky speaks up, sounding almost breathless as he gestures to the old photo still on display.

“Honestly, though, I’m not sure why it took so long. I’m pretty sure I was head over heels even when that picture was taken, even if I didn’t really get it back then.” Steve’s head snaps to him and Bucky shrugs almost shyly with a half smile. Steve turns back to the interviewer as the audience erup into coos and  _ aww _ s. She leads them onto the next topic of conversation seamlessly once the studio calms down.

Bucky rushes off when their segment ends, and Steve pauses long enough to thank the host before following him through the green room and into the bathroom. 

“Buck?” he knocks before entering, and finds Bucky with his pants pulled down to the knee, his tattoo red and inflamed, hourglass empty.

“Guess my math was a little off too, huh?” Bucky’s voice is strangled with emotion, and Steve approaches warily.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know how—” Bucky shakes his head. 

“It’s okay. Well, I mean it’s not  _ okay _ , but I get it. Can I…?” Bucky trails off, but his eyes drop to Steve’s side, and Steve nods, pulling his shirt off and moving closer. Bucky reaches out, hand hovering over the tattoo, and Steve takes his hand and moves it to touch the skin. The tingle is no longer confusing, and Steve sighs at the sensation.

“When?” Bucky runs his hand gently over the area and Steve smiles apologetically.

“After the premiere. That morning. I wasn’t sick.” Bucky snorts. 

“I fucking  _ knew it, _ you asshole! You ate that French toast  _ way  _ too quickly.” Steve laughs at that and drops his head forward to rest against Bucky’s. There’s a brief silence before Bucky winces and shifts a little.

“You were right, though. This really does sting like shit.” Steve moves back, looking down at Bucky’s leg. The area is as red as Steve remembers his own being. He mimics Bucky’s earlier gesture, hovering over the spot and waiting for Bucky’s permission to gently touch the hot skin. Bucky’s eyes flutter closed while Steve traces the lines delicately.

“Is this okay?” Steve’s voice is soft, almost reverent, and Bucky nods. With Bucky’s hand still resting on Steve’s soulmark, and Steve caressing Bucky’s, what had once been a soft tingle has elevated to a steady pulse running between them. Steve brings his free hand to Bucky’s face and tilts it back, waiting for him to open his eyes before letting his own flicker down to his lips. Bucky nods and Steve closes the distance between them once more.

Their lips brush delicately, an almost featherlight accompaniment to the far more intimate caress of their soulmarks. They stay like that as long as they dare, breaths mingling as they lose themselves in the sensation of being bonded after so long. 

Steve feels lightheaded, giddy and drunk as he feels his soul knitting together with Bucky’s now that they have both accepted the bond. It’s a sensation beyond anything he has ever felt before, and he feels electric with it. He also feels like if they keep doing this any longer he’ll do something he really doesn’t want to do for the first time in a decade in a cramped bathroom.

“We should probably go. I’m sure someone will be knocking on the door for us any minute now,” Bucky says ruefully. Steve laughs and nods, stepping back but reluctant to remove his hand from Bucky’s timer. Bucky raises an eyebrow and Steve flushes, pulling his hand back sheepishly.

“Let’s go home?” Bucky pulls his pants up from where they were still hanging around his knees, and the sight causes Steve to crack up. He starts to giggle and Bucky rolls his eyes, throwing Steve’s shirt to him as he devolves into full laughter. Bucky tries to act affronted as he leaves the room, but Steve can tell he’s chuckling too. Steve pulls his shirt on and follows him out, earning knowing looks from the few crew members hanging around.

None of them could have actually known what they were doing in there, but Steve figures their assumptions aren’t actually too far from the truth.

They hold hands the entire car ride home, and when they get into the house they pause in the living room, looking at each other as the air tightens around them. The tree which Steve had set up the other day stands in the corner and the fairy lights twinkle around them. It’s just the two of them now, no cameras, no public, no reason to pretend. 

Just Steve and Bucky.

But they  _ aren’t  _ pretending anymore. It’s real.

Steve opens his mouth, maybe to ask if Bucky wants a drink, maybe to apologise again for not saying anything, but before he has decided what he even  _ should  _ say, Bucky closes the distance between them and kisses him again. This time, it’s a declaration. It’s not for the cameras, not part of the act or even the reverent disbelief of their caresses in the bathroom of the studio. It just  _ is _ . Steve sighs into it, wrapping Bucky in his arms as he kisses back with everything he has. 

Steve opens his mouth and the kiss intensifies, heat building between them. It’s been years since he last had the chance to take Bucky apart, and now he knows why it was always so good between them, why nobody since had ever compared. Bucky gasps against his mouth and Steve swallows the sound eagerly.

He pulls back far enough to start unbuttoning his shirt again, but Bucky swats his hands away and takes over, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to each inch of skin exposed in the process until he can push the shirt off altogether and drag his lips over the mark nestled into Steve’s ribs.

If Steve had thought Bucky’s fingers felt good brushing over that spot, it’s nothing compared to the feel of his lips. 

“Fuck, Bucky.” Bucky glances up, and Steve pulls him up, crashing their lips together. Bucky smirks at him.

“Bedroom?” Steve nods and lets Bucky pull him into the bedroom, pulling his shirt off as they go, then falling together onto the bed. Bucky wastes no time in returning his attention to Steve’s rib cage and it’s not long before his erection is straining in his pants. With the new angle though, Steve can reach down and scrape his fingernails over the sensitive skin of Bucky’s thigh through the thin fabric of his pants, pulling a groan from his throat. 

Bucky pulls back, kneeling above Steve and popping the button, unzipping his pants before inching them down teasingly. Steve reaches out to pull them down further, but Bucky takes hold of his hands, returning them to the bed and slowly easing his way out of the pants until he’s wearing nothing but his underwear. Steve watches hungrily as he palms himself, but when Bucky bites his lower lip and and his eyes flutter closed, Steve can’t hold back. He surges up to wrap an arm around Bucky and flip them so Bucky’s on his back, then presses kisses down his chest, letting his beard graze over Bucky’s nipples and drawing out a sharp inhale, then licking over his adonis belt before continuing down to the colourful skin of Bucky’s hourglass. 

The sound that escapes Bucky’s lips at the first scrape of teeth and tongue over the area is intoxicating, and Steve relishes in it. He redoubles his efforts, bringing a hand up to palm Bucky through his underwear as he licks over the soulmark, and Bucky releases a series of expletives. Steve pulls back with a growl of frustration, pulling Bucky’s boxer briefs off in a fluid movement and glancing up through his eyelashes.

“Can I blow you?” he asks, and Bucky nods desperately.

“Anything, ‘long as you don’t stop touching me there,” he gasps, and the sentence trails off into a whine as Steve swallows him down in one, gripping Bucky’s thigh at the same time. 

Someday, Steve thinks he might try to see if he can make Bucky come from just touching the soulmark. He had heard about sensitivity there in some matches, but he had never expected it could feel like this. Bucky shifts under him, his leg wrapping around Steve’s back and adding a gentle pressure to his ribcage, just enough to keep him on edge while he works Bucky over.

Steve hums around his cock, pulling back and suckling on the tip, flicking his tongue over the slit before sinking back down as he adjusts the pressure on Bucky’s thigh. From the frequency of the grunts and whines pouring from Bucky’s mouth and the way he’s squirming on the mattress, Steve can tell he’s close, and all it takes is a scratch over the center of Bucky’s tattoo, timed perfectly with a press of his tongue to the base of Bucky’s cock before Bucky is gasping and spluttering out a warning. Steve swallows his come and then pulls off to press another wet kiss to the soulmark before moving up to meet Bucky’s lips and kissing him sloppily. 

Bucky smiles into the kiss and turns them again so Steve is on his back without breaking the kiss. He reaches down, freeing Steve’s cock and stroking over it before shifting down to kiss over the hourglass on his ribcage. Steve sighs at the joint sensation as Bucky speeds up his movements, jerking him off with expert movements and tracing the vines which decorate the soumark with his tongue until Steve is a writhing mess on the bed, gripping the sheets, the pillow, Bucky’s hair — anything to give him purchase while Bucky slowly takes him apart. 

Then Bucky fucking bites down on the tender skin of his tattoo, and Steve’s vision whites out.

When he comes, it’s with Bucky’s name on his lips, and Bucky props himself up again to kiss Steve firmly, almost in confirmation, before grabbing a tissue from the bedside table and doing what he can to clean them up, then dropping down onto Steve’s chest.

“That was…”

“Yeah. It was.” Steve absently trails his fingers over Bucky’s thigh, smirking at the full body shiver it elicits. Bucky retaliates with a tickle to his ribcage until they’re both squirming with laughter and arousal.

“Okay, okay, enough!” Bucky raises an eyebrow and Steve pulls him into a bear hug, cuddling close as sleep begins to overtake him.

“‘M sleepy, Buck.” Bucky kisses him and snuggles in, pulling the blanket over them. The last thing Steve registers before falling asleep is the ghost of a kiss on his brow and the undeniable feeling of being at home in Bucky’s arms.

Steve sends a text to Nick the next morning as they get ready to go to the airport, much to Bucky’s exasperation.

> [Steve] No need to draft any statements, we’re good.

❄️

They are travelling back to Brooklyn on Christmas Eve to spend the holiday with family. Sarah hugs them both when they show up to visit, and she makes them tell her all about their tour, then demands to know what their plans are for settling down, which has Steve stammering with embarrassment.

They go to Peggy’s bar together that evening, and she levels Steve with a look.

“I seem to recall you saying it  _ wasn’t like that _ ?” Steve flushes and grins sheepishly.

“To be fair, I didn’t know at the time. We’re not all as perceptive as you.” Peggy grins sharply at him.

“Well, I hope you’ll listen to me the next time I tell you something important.” Steve nods without hesitation, Bucky mirroring the movement where he stands with his arm linked in Steve’s.

They’re apart for Christmas day, neither of them wanting to abandon their families last minute, but they spend the entire day texting each other until Bucky’s mom snaps and demands that Steve and Sarah come join them for the evening so Bucky will stop staring down at his phone. 

Peggy tells them to pay attention to the academy award nominations when they see her on New year’s eve, and they both scoff at her at the time, but they tune in nonetheless. When Bucky is nominated for lead actor and Sam for supporting actor, Steve is proud of them, but he’s not surprised. He buys Sam a bottle of champagne and promises him and Riley a night off from the kids as a treat. Bucky whines, but later admits his own treat from Steve was far superior, as they lie sweaty and sated on their mattress together.

They return to LA for the awards, and Steve kisses Bucky proudly when he stands to receive his award.

“This means so much more than I can say. I can’t let this moment pass without thanking my parents and family for supporting me in my career. My friends for being there after every bad audition, and Steve, for showing me I could pursue this career. Not only was this set a joy to work on, with such an incredibly supportive cast and crew, but it also allowed me the opportunity to reconnect with the man who would turn out to be my soulmate. 

“Steve, I love you, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Thank you to the academy for the recognition, it’s an honour.”

When Sam wins, they both stand to clap for him, causing him to shake his head in exasperation at them. 

There are still obstacles to be faced — their careers mean they are often separated for jobs, but they always return to each other and their bond ensures they never truly feel alone, even when they are on opposite sides of the world. Steve makes sure to get to see each of Bucky’s plays even if he has to fly over and back within the same twenty four hours with barely time for a quick fuck in Bucky’s dressing room before he has to leave again, and Bucky comes to visit Steve on set when he isn’t working.

It’s not easy, but they make it work.

The following Christmas, Steve proposes to Bucky in their new apartment, right upstairs from Bucky’s old place, and Bucky says yes.

They post a picture on instagram in the exact same position as their first post, this time in front of their Christmas tree, with rings glinting on their fingers.

Sarah calls to yell at Steve for not telling her first, and it takes her until New year’s to finally believe it isn’t just another publicity stunt.

The years pass, and things change. Bucky adopts a cat, who takes almost a full year to warm up to Steve as he comes and goes. Eventually, Steve decides to take a step back from Hollywood, spending more and more time at home in New York. He makes some indie movies, and even acts in a play opposite Bucky. The spare room in their apartment becomes a nursery, and after a while they move again.

There are difficult times too, but they weather them together.

It has been said that the soulmate bond is mysterious and irrefutable. That once you are bonded, you are bonded for life, but in reality it’s a series of choices. It’s choosing to put faith in the bond you share with another person, and trusting they have the same faith in you.

It’s choosing to fight for each other, to be there for each other regardless of physical distance.

It’s choosing each other, above all others, day after day for the rest of your life.

It’s all very romantic, really, if you give it the chance to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays! I hope you're able to have a nice time this month, no matter what you celebrate. ❄️❤️


End file.
